Page 6 of A Surrender Of Hope

I stagger back, both fear and awe overtaking me as I stare at my odd appearance. I don't look like the girl I know myself to be. My face is smoother, my cheekbones more defined, and with the glowing eyes and crown atop my head, I feel like I’m staring back at a nightmare version of myself.

The cold, powerful feeling inside me twists, almost like a living thing in my chest as the room behind me changes in the mirror. The red walls deepen in color, while the flags and rugs brighten, and the material on the walls flutters as if there is a breeze in the room. I startle when a fire roars to life in the large mantle near the double doors, which are now shut, back on their hinges, and looking brand new.

Twin onyx chandeliers I hadn't noticed before now spark with light as the black candles ignite above my head, lighting the room that much more, showing my new appearance in painstaking detail. I roll my lips together as I stare at myself. I want to tear my eyes from the changing mirror to look at the room behind me. I want to run and never look back at myself, yet I’m frozen in place, unable to step or look away as the room shifts behind me.

After a long, drawn-out moment, the room slowly darkens despite the new addition of fire. The ground under my feet shakes as a shadow crawls over the gleaming, polished floors. Its prominent presence fills the entirety of the room, snuffingout a handful of the candles in its wake. I know what's about to happen, just like with the Beastia. I’ve seen this shadow before in a dream, and he left a mark on my wrist.

My hands shake at my sides as I look up and up at the darkness, my heart pounding, thrilling at the void in front of me. But just as fast as the void appears, it slowly lessens, swirling through the air like a winter's breeze whipping my hair around my face as the red silk of my gown flutters around my ankles.

The darkness curls in on itself, but instead of the explosion I saw before, everything stills; as though even the dust particles in the air are afraid to move. The flames on the candles freeze, refusing to flicker as a man steps out from the depths of the void. Like before on the battlefield, the male stands tall, his thick black hair coursing down his back in intricate braids. This time he’s dressed in what looks like a darker version of the clothes Valen wears when we are in a dreamscape. The elegant black and burgundy fabric clings to his enormous body as he steps into the room, fiery red eyes locked on me as if he already knew exactly where I was standing.

A feeling of rightness and excitement flows through me as I take in the man. He’s not as tall as he was in the field, and his grotesque features have softened into those of a man, except for the long pointed claws at the tips of his fingers. From where I stand, looking at him in the reflection of the mirror, I know this man is taller than any man I’ve ever seen.

Darkness swirls at his feet as he strides forward with an air of authority that I’ve only seen replicated by one man before. Once again, I look in the mirror’s reflection for Lennox, wishing he were here. A feral smile crawls across the man’s expression, exposing the long, sharp canines behind his full lips. I inhale sharply when I see a large, jagged crown of onyx resting on top of his long black hair. His crown is woven into the elaboratebraids that twist around his head and fall down his back, blending in with the silky loose strand of hair already there. The style reminds me of the one Lennox wears, only much more intricate.

I tear my eyes from the crown on his head, my gaze meeting the bright red of his in the reflection. A shiver of dread races down my back as I realize the man is getting closer and I can’t move. Darkness wafts off him, making the air around me spark with fear that turns my stomach.

“I’ve been waiting for you to return, darling girl,” he rasps. With a voice like thunder, the man approaches, his steps loud and imposing as he climbs the steps to the dais. The closer he gets, the larger he becomes until I can feel the heat from his body as he stands directly behind me. The top of my head barely reaches the middle of his chest, and I can’t suppress the shiver that races through me when heavy, claw-tipped hands cover my shoulders.

“Why?” I can’t help but ask as he stares at me in the mirror. The man’s head tilts to the side as he studies me. A flicker of disapproval crosses his expression as he leans down, bringing his face next to my own.

“Because you’re the key to my freedom, child,” he whispers before the claws of his hands dig into the flesh of my shoulders, making me cry out as fiery pain erupts inside me. His claws sink deep, covering my shoulders, chest, and upper back, his hands so large that they cover the span of my shoulders. My legs shake and give out under me as red magic sparks in his hands and sinks into my skin. My mouth opens, and I try to scream, but it’s like he’s taken my ability to do anything away from me as I hang limply in his clawed hands.

I can feel his magic surge through me, wiggling into my chest and wrapping around my heart, making the organ squeeze in protest as my vision blurs. I can feel somethingwarm fighting back, a black spark of magic I hadn’t felt before, slowly growing and attacking the red magic of the man. A war I can feel inside but can’t see. My eyes fall shut as the black magic grows, encompassing the red and making the man holding me snarl in frustration. His claws sink deep into my body, making the smallest of pained whimpers slip past my parted lips.

“Meyer!” a new voice yells, panic in his tone as footsteps rush up the stairs of the dais behind me. I open my eyes, looking into the mirror, but I only see the large man.

“Relax into the magic. Let it soothe you. It will take the pain away,” the man says, pushing more magic into me, making the black magic inside me fight even harder. I want to shake my head, to yank out of this man’s grip, but I’m paralyzed, my mind feeling foggy like I’ve drunk too much wine. Suddenly, the screams of hundreds of people fill my ears, and the vision of burning cities filters through my mind. My stomach heaves, and I can feel bile crawl up my throat at the horror playing in my mind.

“Meyer, you're bleeding!” I hear the new voice say, a deep growl echoes next to me and the feather-like touch of fingers ghosts over my skin as someone inhales deeply. “Inanis.” The word is growled like a curse before I feel more touches on my shoulders. I can see someone from the corner of my eye and frown as I look back in the mirror. There is no one here but me and the monstrous man. I groan, my head rolling forward on my shoulders, my strength rapidly diminishing as his red magic increases inside me. I reach out and cling to the black magic inside me, as feelings of protection and warmth radiate off it despite the fact it's slowly weakening.

“Keep your eyes on me, darling girl. It’s nearly over,” the man whispers almost soothingly, and like a slave to my own body, I listen, my eyes opening and reconnecting with the redgaze behind me. My back arches as the pain increases, making tears run down my cheeks.

“Shit, you have to look away from the mirror! Look away, Meyer!” the voice demands, and I blink my eyes a few times, trying but failing to do as the voice commands. “Now, dammit! Valen and Creed will break if you die, and I can’t lose them! Now I need you to woman the fuck up and break whatever connection that bastard has on you!” My head suddenly whips to the side, and a burning pain erupts on my right cheek when I break my gaze with the mirror.

My fingers ball into fists at my sides, the first type of movement I’ve been able to control since looking into the mirror, and I gasp, drawing air into my aching lungs. Oh shit! I wasn't breathing! How the hell did I not realize I wasn't breathing?

“Good! Now keep those eyes shut and fucking fight him, Meyer! I swear to the gods of your world and mine, I will not forgive you if you give in to him!” the familiar voice I can’t quite place bellows next to me. I have no issue with keeping my eyes shut. I never want to see that man again!

His red magic in me has already weakened, but I can still feel the sharp claws digging into my shoulders and heavy, hot hands wrapping around me as I try to yank myself away from him. The sound of people screaming faded until I could only hear my breaths and the slight growl of the man standing next to me.

“Say something so I know you’re actually alive here, Meyer!” the voice says, and I frown, finally figuring out who that voice belongs to.

“Jesthren?” I ask, my voice sounding weak and scratchy to my ears as I try to keep breathing. A slew of words I don’t understand suddenly comes from Jesthren as I keep my eyes shut. A cool hand touches my smarting cheek as he gruntsbeside me, his touch suddenly gone. “Shit. That fucking hurts. I can’t touch you without him trying to pull me into a trance. He almost got me when I slapped you! You need to fight him, Meyer. Get out of his hold.”

“I can’t,” I whisper, trying to shove the red magic from me. The mark on my wrist burns, and I groan in pain as my feet shake. My feet… Oh shit, I’m standing by myself again! That’s good, right?

“Don’t give me that crap. You somehow have all my brothers head over fucking heels for you, and that is something I never thought I would see. There is obviously something more to you, girl. Now, if you want them back, you have to fight because I can tell you they are fighting for you right now! How else would I be here after you died?”

I died!?

My eyes fly open at that remark, and I curse, making sure I’m looking at my feet and not the mirror as I nod and swallow hard.

“There… there is black magic?—”

“Follow it!” Jesthren all but shouts into my ear. “Now!”

“But what if it’s a trap?” Fear courses through me as I try to shove the red magic away. It moves slightly, loosening from around my heart and making me sag slightly in relief.

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